


Alone in a cold world

by Thean



Category: Ai no Kusabi
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:23:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21650722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thean/pseuds/Thean
Summary: A little something made for the first week of December 2019's #ankCreativeChallenge and the theme "The contrast between warmth and coldness"
Relationships: Iason Mink/Riki, Mimea/Riki (Ai no Kusabi)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 12
Collections: Ai no Kusabi Creative Challenge December 2019





	Alone in a cold world

_**Riki, in Eos, Iason’s flat** _

It’s weird how it is warm in here and how everything and everyone feel cold, when outside everything was really cold and people were warm. Not that Ceres inhabitants were the nice kind, nobody is I guess, but it is nothing compared to Eos’ lack of humanity.

In Ceres I never felt alone. In Ceres I could act by myself, dream and try things, put myself into action to forget my bad conditions. In Ceres I could live, even with the others despising me.

Here I am watched at every single instant of my existence but have nobody to share things with. Here I am enchained, I can’t take any decision, I can’t act, I can’t even dream. Here I feel like I am dying to make these crazy blond guys laugh. And I just can’t do anything.

The metallic city, frozen in its icy human-rights-hating principles. These icy people who think being considered as a dispensable object by bastards who just look at them to mock them. These icy blue eyes, like a floe forbidden me to getting out of the trapped crevasse it opened for me to fall in.

The suite’s temperature is something around 25°C. Really too much. Despite of that, I am shivering.

“Master Riki, should I turn up the heating system?”

Daryl shivers too when I look at his stupidity. Are my eyes as cold as _His_? I really hate this thought. Needing to let off steam, I leave without a word to go to the salon. The looks of those who think that not liking being beaten and manipulated by a moving ice statue is an insult to their unability to identify two different words will still be better than the one of this human acting like a machine. And with some luck, a little fight could warm the day, even just a little.

On my way, I am thinking about the only natural warm element that was once in there. But now she is gone, probably because of me. Feeling sick, I can’t suppress a cough. The pets’ cringe make me realise that I am arrived at the salon. And, as they would fear to caugh too, there will be no fight today. Poor little things. They make me feel even more sick just by looking at them. If only the ice in their eyes could burn, like _His_ do… but I can’t wish this. It is the only thing which still links me to myself. Iason is to never be wanted.


End file.
